


i wanna know how to love you

by sstarryknight



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Constipation, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sstarryknight/pseuds/sstarryknight
Summary: wonpil just needs a little taking care of. maybe jae can give him what he needs.





	i wanna know how to love you

**Author's Note:**

> this was just an excuse for me to write about everyone fucking wonpil because i'm a bad person
> 
> [ 170920 ]
> 
> \---
> 
> i'm importing some near-ancient fic from my old livejournal in the hopes of reviving my not-so-successful fic writing career. please bear with me!
> 
> [ 181219 ]

wonpil has one older sister. youngest of the family. he’s used to being babied. and he knows, he _knows_ that when his members “bully” him it’s only because they love him enough for it to not to hurt. but sometimes, he just wants to be babied.

he’s not sure why, but he isn’t feeling himself today. the members are at it again in the waiting room, telling the show champion video camera about something dumb he did at the airport. wonpil is _trying_ but he can’t get it to sit well with him, so he pretends to go get some more food then returns and sits on the arm of the soft chair brian is sitting in off-camera. he’s supposed to be signing more cds, but he’s laughing at the members’ antics. his long nose scrunches up in amusement.

wonpil leans into brian, an arm going around his shoulder. it’s the easiest to get the attention he wants with brian, even casually. he’s too much of a nice guy to ever be “mean” to him on-camera and wonpil is thankful for that. it’s usually brian he turns to first when wonpil isn’t...feeling himself. brian’s good at taking care of him.

wonpil’s hand nonchalantly moves to the back of brian’s neck. one of his fingers draws small circles behind his ear and brian catches on immediately, making eye contact with wonpil to confirm. wonpil stares back at him.

brian gives wonpil’s hand a small squeeze, reassures him. brian’s good at that.

\---

they get lucky back home. dowoon and jae decide to spend some time back at the company for extra practice, accompanied by their manager- _hyung_. sungjin sleeps with his huge pair of sennheisers on anyway so brian and wonpil are pretty much alone.

brian’s kisses are soft, careful, like wonpil’s something valuable, but there’s still a heat underneath them all that makes wonpil blush. this is probably what being loved by brian is like, he thinks. he’s almost jealous of whoever brian will end up with, just because he’s so good at...practically everything. he’s perfect.

“what do you want?” brian asks in between his kisses. it takes some time before he remembers wonpil needs to breathe to answer.

“um.” wonpil’s fingers fiddle a bit with the collar of brian’s flannel. “just...take care of me?” he asks in almost a whisper. god, it isn’t even the first time they’ve done any of this but it’s not like voicing your sexual requests gets any easier, at least for wonpil. he’s lucky brian understands. he’s good at that.

soon brian is fucking wonpil on jae’s bed over a towel because it’s hard to do anything on the bottom bunk bed. brian has him on his lap, arms encircling wonpil’s small waist. he thrusts into wonpil rhythmically, the drawn-out drag of his cock leaving wonpil clutching at brian’s shoulders, curling into him.

brian always whispers stupid things into his neck that wonpil absolutely loves.

“my baby sounds so beautiful”

“my baby feels so fucking good”

“you’re so pretty when you’re being fucked, baby”

wonpil groans low in his throat when he comes, arms tightening around brian like his life depends on it.

brian cleans him up afterward in the shower, dresses him in clean clothes, lets him stay in his bed for a while before the others come home, kisses him some more. he takes care of wonpil. he’s good at that.

\---

“sungjin- _hyung_ , ‘ah,’” wonpil prompts, trying to get him to accept the piece of meat he’s trying to feed him.

it looks like sungjin’s about to eat it but he backtracks at the last second. “wonpil, i don’t--”

wonpil feels his face fall. “just once.”

“no.” sungjin goes back to busying himself with the other frying plate.

brian saves him from forgetting the camera is rolling and eats the meat instead.

sungjin doesn’t mean it. he even mouths a “sorry” at wonpil that the camera can’t see so wonpil nods and gives one of his signature grins so sungjin doesn’t feel bad about it. wonpil knows he cares, he just...wishes he would be okay with showing it. wonpil needed that sometimes.

\---

when they get home sungjin all but slams him into the door of their shared bedroom, wonpil's head nearly thudding onto the wood. sharp pain runs through his shoulderblades from the contact. _fuck_ , wonpil thinks. _that's gonna bruise._

sungjin kisses him, his tongue hot inside wonpil's mouth, while his hands make short work of their shirts. somehow, wonpil finds the hard door at his back replaced by a mattress. sungjin's sheets. he strips wonpil of the rest of his clothes and then his own and wastes no time in slipping two lubed fingers into wonpil.

"s-sungjin-- _hyu--ng_ \--" wonpil can hardly breathe as he squirms in both discomfort and pleasure, his nails scratching at sungjin's back as he thrusts his fingers in and out. he sucks marks into wonpil's neck, chest, everywhere and wonpil feels like dying.

he lets out a small whimper when sungjin's fingers are gone but there’s not really any time to feel empty because sungjin is already pushing into him with a condom on. wonpil whines at the intrusion, staccato bursts of “ah, ah, ah” with every slap of sungjin’s hipbones against his ass. _that’s also gonna bruise,_ wonpil thinks in spite of his mind hazing out on him. it’s almost impossible to come out unmarked after sungjin’s done with him.

sungjin’s pace is unrelenting. one of his hands come off of wonpil’s waist to rest against wonpil’s throat, holding him down. he’s not pressing so hard, but it’s enough.

sungjin is rough with him. it’s how he says sorry.

wonpil comes and loses all sense of space and time. maybe this is what blacking out is.

when he gathers his senses again, sungjin is carrying him to the bathroom. wonpil vaguely wonders where the other members are. probably in their room, wonpil decides. hopefully. or else they would get the fright of their life. or not really. maybe jae would.

 _jae_.

wonpil’s reverie is interrupted by the feel of the floor’s cold tiles on his butt when sungjin sits him against the wall. sungjin turns on the shower and starts cleaning wonpil up.

with his eyes half-closed, there’s not much wonpil notices except maybe the spray of the water cool on his skin. he feels sungjin take his face into his hands and then they’re kissing.

it’s softer than earlier. he kisses now like wonpil’s something delicate, cradling wonpil’s face so he can tilt it just the right way, kisses tame and licks into his mouth measured.

it’s how he says sorry.

wonpil sighs.

(he comes a second time when sungjin sucks him off under the streams of water.)

\---

wonpil is _tired_. being an idol, he’s always tired, but when they return to the dorm every night it always feels like he can never remember a time when he was more tired.

dowoon notices this, probably because wonpil’s not talking like he usually does when he crashes on dowoon’s bunk bed before eventually being kicked out by either jae, brian, or dowoon himself.

dowoon rolls over to face him in the dark. jae and brian are already asleep at this time. “ _hyung_?”

it’s the kind of tired that drains wonpil’s willpower to even speak. he just sighs in acknowledgement.

dowoon shifts around, arranging himself into a sitting position. suddenly wonpil is taken by the wrist, tugged a bit. he obliges in confusion and ends up seated in dowoon’s lap. dowoon’s thumbs come up to stroke wonpil’s cheeks. it seems as though he’s searching for something in wonpil’s face.

“what’s this,” wonpil murmurs, looking down at his hands resting against dowoon’s chest. it’s almost always wonpil that initiates these things--not that dowoon resists. wonpil just kind of beats him to it. it’s probably his fault dowoon knows how to do so many things that maybe he shouldn’t know how to do.

dowoon doesn’t answer. it takes wonpil by surprise that he instead kisses him. dowoon kisses like a first-timer, still hesitant because it’s not him who usually leads. wonpil welcomes it anyway, albeit still left in confusion, kisses him back.

as always, wonpil gets a little too enthusiastic and his hips shift forward when he tries to get closer to dowoon. wonpil’s crotch presses against dowoon’s, who is apparently already half-hard. wonpil barely bites back a whine before he remembers where they are, but dowoon’s hands move to wonpil’s ass, holding him closer so dowoon can roll his hips up into him.

“do--woonie,” wonpil tries to say amidst the moans that rise up in his throat to choke him, “the others--” jae and brian are mere feet away from them, presumably--hopefully--still sleeping.

“it’s okay.” dowoon is breathing hard, thrusting up to meet wonpil, his grip still tight. wonpil breathes through his mouth to try to minimize his noise. wonpil idly remembers the all the times the boy would squirm and ask “ _hyung_ , here?” or “ _hyung_ , now?” _what a hypocrite._

wonpil’s mind clouds up as he rocks his hips into dowoon’s. he clutches at dowoon’s arms to steady himself. wonpil forgets how big he’s getting physically. dowoon’s arms are like a cage around him. somehow the boy he used to baby is the one making him feel safe now.

with one last gasp, wonpil comes in his pants. dowoon holds wonpil tight enough to hurt so he can thrust into him a few more times before he follows, his low exhale somehow attractive even in wonpil’s post-orgasmic daze.

wonpil doesn’t want to move anymore but he’s all sticky and uncomfortable now so he'll have to eventually. before he can even start whining, dowoon hoists him up by his thighs and maneuvers them to the edge of his bunk so he can hop off of it almost effortlessly to bring them to the bathroom. wonpil goes limp against him, his head leaning against dowoon’s shoulder. dowoon stops to grab an extra pair of pants and one of his boxer shorts for wonpil, which seems like a herculean task what with dowoon’s armfuls of wonpil, but he does it.

wonpil finds himself pouting a bit when dowoon sits him on the counter beside the sink. dowoon sees too and goes, “ah, _hyung_ , why?” in mock annoyance, pushing a finger against the corner of wonpil’s mouth.

“i kind of wished you fucked me properly now,” wonpil says wistfully, which makes dowoon snort.

“jeez, this _hyung_ ,” he says, prompting wonpil to lean against the wall and lift his hips so he can get his soiled clothes off.

“maybe tomorrow,” dowoon tacks on as an afterthought as he cleans wonpil up.

\---

jae comes with his forehead braced against his arm on the shower wall and his hand around his cock, breathing ragged.

so. this is bad.

he shuts off the water and towels himself dry. his life needed some reevaluation, only he’s not really sure his schedule will allow for it.

it’s bad because he shouldn’t be thinking about his band member--any of his band members--under him, flushed and sweating and breathing his name like a mantra. especially not kim wonpil.

 _well, speak of the fucking devil._ wonpil is the first person he runs into when he gets out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

“get off my bed,” jae says, not sparing more than a split-second glance at wonpil looking particularly...small sitting cross-legged in jae’s sleeping space. jae starts rifling through his clothes rack before he can see wonpil slide off the bed.

“i thought it was dowoon in the shower,” jae hears him say.

“don’t you have your own room?” jae doesn’t know what’s making him especially hostile today. _i don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that i literally just masturbated to the thought of someone standing two feet from me!_ jae believes he has reason to be on edge.

before wonpil can say anything, he backs up into brian, who has just entered the room. jae sees brian’s hands instinctively grab hold of wonpil’s shoulders when it seems like he’s going to lose his balance from the impact. jae quickly looks away and busies himself with his clothes again.

“he can stay on my bed,” brian says. “or dowoon’s.”

“it’s okay, _hyung_ ,” wonpil says. jae doesn’t want to look at him when he leaves.

“what’s your deal?” brian asks from his seat on his lower bunk.

“don’t touch him like that in front of me.” jae doesn’t know why he says that. but he’s said it. it’s there, hanging in the space between jae and brian like an uncomfortably unfortunate elephant-shaped helium balloon.

“why not?” brian says. “make up your mind, jae. do you hate him or not? you don’t have to be an ass to him just because you can’t deal with your own repressed...whatever this is.”

curse brian for being his level-headed, logical self. it wasn’t fair. jae never wanted to be the oldest. he wanted to stay petulant and stubborn, like the child he was.

“ _hyung_ , we write break-up songs for a living.” jae stops arranging and rearranging hangers for a second. “we’re not supposed to let our actual lives become one. figure this out.”

jae hears the bedsprings squeak when brian takes his leave.

\---

wonpil is not quite sure why he like-likes jae sometimes. he’s mean to wonpil. he purposely talks in english so wonpil won’t understand anything. he calls wonpil an idiot.

but he also lets wonpil get dibs on food if they order the same thing at a restaurant. he lets wonpil know when he’s done a good job. and when he’s feeling generous with his hugs, he gives wonpil the best ones.

it never takes too long for wonpil to stop thinking about the mean things jae has done to him because all the good things he’s done and the good things he is always outnumber them. it’s why wonpil still keeps hanging on.

it goes nowhere and it makes things hurt more than they should but wonpil always hangs on to the things that are worth it.

\---

the next evening, when the others are busy winding down after the day’s schedule, wonpil enters jae’s room and holds his hand.

“i’m sorry,” wonpil says in a rush, his eyes glued to his feet. “please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

sometimes jae isn’t even sure how wonpil is a pianist. his fingers aren’t particularly long. he has small hands. jae’s long fingers envelope wonpil’s short ones easily.

“i’m not.” jae can’t look wonpil in the eyes. yeah, he’s _not_ , but he doesn’t know how to tell wonpil to stay away from him to prevent him from doing anything stupid. without hurting his feelings.

“you’re still acting weird.” wonpil’s pout worsens as he tightens his grip on jae’s hand. “i mean, you’re always weird but like--the bad kind of weird.”

what does jae even say to that?

“if you don’t like me,” wonpil says after a bit, “you can tell me.”

_it’s not that i don’t._

“just tell me why.” wonpil is pleading, and jae is hurting.

_it’s that i do._

“why am i the only one in this house whom you haven’t fucked yet?” the words make it out of jae’s mouth before he can decide if they sound right, but it’s too late. he sounds fucking desperate and needy and he’s succeeded in grossing himself out by how entitled he comes across to sex with wonpil.

it’s obviously the last thing wonpil expected him to say with the way he stares at him with his mouth open. wonpil’s face scrunches up in thought and jae can see his cheeks getting a shade redder every second. jae feels his fingers loosen and leave his. “but i,” he says slowly, almost a whisper, “i don’t want you like that.”

jae can feel the embarrassment welling up in his eyes. “okay” is all he says before leaving. he doesn’t know where, all he knows is that he needs to leave _now_ , before he hears the “ _hyung_ , wait, no, let me explain” from wonpil because all that do will make him stay, make him hope, and he _doesn’t need that_.

\---

 _sungjin (8 missed calls) - 9:13 pm_  
_brian (4 missed calls) - 9:34 pm_  
 _dowoon (2 missed calls) - 9:40 pm_  
 _wonpil (1 missed call) - 10:03 pm_

jae sighs and buries his head in his hands. how he managed to end up in a deserted playground contemplating his terrible life decisions on a kids’ swingset, he had no clue. but he's here.

he’d have to face him (and the rest of the members) sooner or later. but jae still wasn’t sure what to tell him. _uh, yeah, sorry for being an asshole, i just couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you for the past month and i can’t understand exactly why it hasn’t happened yet and also, i might be kind of in like with you because you’re all i ever fucking think about lately_ \--yeah, that would fix everything.

unfortunately, life decides that sooner would be much more convenient than later. jae senses someone stop right in front of him, so he looks up and lo and fucking behold. kim wonpil.

“sorry,” jae says before wonpil can even speak. “i wasn’t thinking and i just needed some time to sort things out. i won’t do anything stupid anymore. i shouldn’t expect things from you like that. it’s not fair--”

“shut up, _hyung_ ,” wonpil says. jae notices he’s kind of fuming, which is not very wonpil at all, so he does as he says. “you always talk too much so just shut up now. when i said--when i said i didn’t want you like that what i meant was that i don’t want to just fuck you.”

“then...what _do_ you want?” jae is honestly confused at this point. he just wants to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.

“i--” wonpil won’t look at him straight. “i want to mean something to you.”

“what does that even _mean_ \--”

“it means i want to go out with you!” wonpil eyelashes are spiked with tears. “i want to go on stupid coffee shop dates with you. i want to be the only one who can make you laugh for real. i want to stop having to pretend the way you look at me sometimes is because you feel the way i do. i want us to be real.” his knuckles come up to rub his eyes and he, honest to god, sobs.

jae can’t fucking believe what he’s hearing, he just knows he needs to kiss the hell out of wonpil right now.

so he gets up from his swing and he does.

\---

jae drags wonpil through the door of their dorm without a second thought. jae can feel the others stare them down from the living room couch but he really can’t give a shit about anyone else right now so he hopes they get the hint to disperse when he shuts the bedroom door behind him and locks it.

man, it’s like his mouth just gravitates towards wonpil’s everything except for when their clothes get in the way when jae strips them both in record time.

jae sort of freezes when they’re on the bed. he didn’t really think he’d get this far.

“do you know how?” wonpil asks.

“y-yeah, just. give me a second.”

“ _hyung_ , you’re going to hurt me if you lie to me.”

“i mean, no, i don’t know what i’m doing. walk me through it, please.”

“okay, um. here, why don’t i--” wonpil takes the lube out of jae’s hands, applies some on his own. jae watches him lay back and hug his knees to his chest to finger himself. jae almost has a complete mental breakdown.

he feels his face get even hotter as wonpil’s breathy moans quicken with the pace his fingers go in and out of him.

“can. can i do it?”

jae’s voice sounds small to him so he’s not sure if wonpil even hears, but he takes his fingers out of his ass and spreads his legs in front of jae, bent at the knees.

“um. okay.” wonpil is still breathing heavily, his head thrown back on the pillows. “you saw what i did, right? just. do that.”

jae does. when his first finger is lubed and makes contact with wonpil, he hears a small inhale.

“okay?”

“yes. yeah. this is just. different from other times.” _images_.

wonpil is so _warm_. jae works his way up to three fingers, awed at each noise wonpil makes and how he clenches at the bedsheets with his fists. his hand braces itself on one of wonpil’s knees, keeping his legs open.

“ _hyung_ , i think that--i think that’s okay now.”

jae forces himself to stop, not really liking the cold air hitting his exposed fingers. he exhales a bit, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. “okay, um. do i just--”

“here, help me up,” wonpil says. jae obliges by lifting him into a sitting position by the waist ( _fuck, it’s so_ tiny). wonpil’s face ends up ridiculously close to jae’s and somehow wonpil thought it was appropriate to break into one of his gigantic grins and it’s just. blinding. and _beautiful_.

“okay, okay,” wonpil says. “i’ll make this easier for you. you can just sit there and look pretty.” after he slides a condom on jae, wonpil positions himself over him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his dick so he can get aligned properly before jae is finally inside him.

jae lets out the loudest moan he has ever made in his entire life.

 _wrong_. wonpil has always been the pretty one.

wonpil feels like a vise around him. the pressure chokes jae. “won--pil--fuck, ah--you’re so--tight--”

as if to spite him, wonpil clenches even tighter as he lifts his hips and slams back down on jae’s cock. jae just about loses his mind. his fingers keep slipping off wonpil’s waist and wonpil presses his lips against jae’s almost sweetly, chastely. how just like him. jae sticks his tongue into wonpil’s mouth just to hear him whine.

wonpil is _noisy_. and jae wants more of it. he gets confident enough to flip wonpil over so he’s under jae and jae can hold him up by the hips to thrust into him deeper. a groan rips out of wonpil’s throat, long and rough enough that jae is concerned at the back of his mind for his vocal cords.

“jae--ah! jaehyung--ah, ah--” wonpil scrabbles for something to hold on to, his nails catching at jae’s arms and leaving red lines in their wake. it’s too much, the way wonpil feels and sounds and looks and smells and _tastes_ when jae sucks on his adam’s apple instead of his lips so jae doesn’t muffle how loud wonpil is.

wonpil doesn’t even manage to say jae’s name again before he comes and his breath cuts off. he’s even tighter around jae with his release and it’s not long until jae follows, his moan half-buried in wonpil’s neck.

jae pulls out and manages to drag himself somewhere beside wonpil on the bed with his shaky arms. he drops his tied condom on the floor, hopefully caught by their shed clothes.

“come here,” he says to an almost unconscious wonpil, pulling him by the arm so he ends up somewhat perched on jae’s chest, his pointy chin indenting jae’s skin. wonpil’s eyes are half-closed. his breathing sounds as if he’d run a mile. jae brushes some strands of wonpil’s dishevelled hair into submission and finds himself thinking that wonpil is just--incredible.

“i don’t really want you to fuck anyone else but me,” jae says. it sounds more like a question that he doesn’t want to ask.

“i don’t want to fuck anyone else but you,” wonpil replies, his head doing a strangely...adorable tilt. there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

jae’s arms snake around wonpil’s waist. “that’s, uh,” he says intelligently. “good. thanks.”

wonpil laughs through his nose, his eyes crinkling. his mouth does that thing again where he tries to stop his signature giant grin from bursting out but it’s too late because it does and it looks like it’s going to break his face.

jae’s thumb brushes against wonpil’s lower lip. “i never want to see this disappear.”

“as long as you’re here,” wonpil says, “you won’t have to.”


End file.
